


This Old House

by Kivren



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 22:47:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21686836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kivren/pseuds/Kivren
Summary: A very good friend of mine shared the writing prompt on facebook:Ghost in the house:  GET OUT!  I WILL TAKE YOU-Real estate agent: chill, its me.Ghost: oh hey, have you sold it yet.Real estate agent: obviously NOT, idiot.and then the comment : enemies to friends to lovers, 67k, ghost AU.This may only be seven thousand-ish words, but I kinda liked it.Ghostly Stiles and tired Derek, hope you like it Mags!
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 7
Kudos: 210





	This Old House

This Old house  
An AU  
Teen wolf  
Kivren

The tool belt made a solid thunk as Derek dropped it on the old kitchen table. He tiredly wiped his hand over his face as he mentally ran over the list of projects he would need to complete before he could show this house. The back door was sprung, the kitchen lights only came on half the time so he needed to check the wiring, the bathroom door was broken, and the living room floor was just a mess. It looked like a big dog had clawed it up.  
Derek had a screwdriver in one hand and a measuring tape in the other when it began.  
“Get out. GET OUT! Get OUUTT!!” Derek shook his head and heaved a sigh.  
“Told you dude, I bought this shit hole and its mine till I finish fixing it and flip it so shut it!” There was a ghostly splutter and then the hall door slammed itself twice.  
“If you break that door, I swear, I will get a truckload of sage and fill this fucker up with smoke you got me?” It stayed quiet and he got back to work. He had gotten this house for a steal at auction from the city but times like this he really wondered if it was worth it.  
He spent the next day painting the kitchen, the heater seemed to be stuck so he was painting in just his ratty jeans. Easier for clean up anyway. It had been quiet, just one moan when he had stripped off his shirt. He had glared around him and the shouting hadn’t started up again, thankfully.  
After several days of heater issues he finally called in a buddy that did HVAC repairs. The moment it became clear what he was there to do the walls started knocking and doors started slamming as if the ghost was having a full on temper tantrum. Isaac told Derek solemnly that there was nothing wrong with either the heater or thermostat before beating feet out of the fixer upper on Main Street. Derek just stared at the front door his friend had fled through as the doors in the house slowly stopped banging open and shut and the temperature slowly began to climb again. Suddenly he stopped, shocked in the middle of the mess that was the living room floor.  
“Seriously? Are you really looking for a free show?” The hall closet gave an almost desultory slam, followed by scuffing sounds in the hallway and the quietly moaned.  
“Go Away…” long and spooky and drawn out. Derek could not help his laughter.  
“Stop driving up my heating bill and I will work shirtless, geez. No need to be a jerk.” His eyebrows shot up when the windows all slide up a few inches and the sound of the heater clicking off carried through the house.  
“Wow, I managed to buy a cheap house with a perv. Haunting it.” Later when he went into the bathroom he saw written across the mirror.  
“Dead, not blind.” That stopped Derek in his tracks. He wasn’t expecting an actual answer he had just assumed it was coincidence and a residual haunting. It was supposed to be like poorly erased video tape, not someone actually stuck in the house forever. That was awful. He slowly reached up to wash the mirror and set a wipe off marker he kept in his tool belt for note taking on the edge of the sink. When he went home that night he still felt bad that someone who had once lived in the house and probably loved it was having to watch him pretty well gut it.  
The next morning he went to check the mirror and there scrawled in a rushed masculine scrawl was a message for him.  
“Kitchen looks good in white, check the tub it’s leaking and for the love of God no more Taylor swift!!!”  
Derek flushed as he remembered the first night he had lost his temper and set a cd player loaded with Taylor Swift on repeat and left it when he left for the evening.  
“If you remember that was after you put streaks up and down the hallway in the fresh paint.”  
Footsteps echoed down that same hallway and then up the stairs. One of the bedrooms closed quietly.  
Derek crawled into the crawlspace and checked over the pipes for the tub. After replacing the older pipe that was close to breaking everything down there looked good. He spent the weekend running a power sander and refinishing the wooden floors. He touched up the paint in the other rooms and decided he could begin showing the house the next week.  
Monday evening dressed in a gray suit and followed by two, for lack of a better term, yuppies Derek re-entered the house. He walked them through the upstairs bedrooms first and the wife whined about how plain the rooms were and how much effort it would take to bring them up to her standards. When they got to the kitchen she got down right vicious. How small it was, how nasty the cabinets were, how they would have to take it down to studs and start over. There was a noticeable chill in the air as suddenly the cabinet doors that she disliked started to bang open and shut and a cranky voice began to shout.  
“Get out! Get out!” Well Yuppie one and Yuppie two went running out of the door as if they were being chased. Derek just stood there mouth hanging open. Then he roared.  
“Stop! What do you think you are doing?”  
The window over the sink frosted up and a familiar handwriting appeared.  
“Terrible people. My kitchen is cozy.”  
“It’s not your kitchen anymore, remember?”  
The kitchen faucet sprayed at him as all the doors again slammed themselves shut. The sound of pounding feet echoed in the hall and on the stairs and the upstairs door slammed louder than all the others.  
Derek just rubbed his temples before walking outside to see if the clients were still waiting or if he needed to call a taxi to get home. Fifteen minutes later he slid into the back seat of an Uber and gave the driver his address.  
It went about the same way with the next six couple he showed the house to. Quiet to begin with and when they would mention changing the house at all a full on tantrum. After the eighth showing Derek just sat on the front porch and ordered a pizza. He was tired and he didn’t want to cook back at his dingy little apartment. When the delivery guy walked up he looked sad, which was strange.  
“Everything ok?”  
“Yeah sure, man. Did you just buy the place?”  
“No, I’ve owned it for a few months. Just fixing it up before I try to flip it.”  
“Oh, too bad. I thought maybe we had another pizza fan living here like Stiles.”  
“What’s a Stiles?”  
“That was what the kid who used to live here called himself.”  
“What happened to him?”  
“No one knows. His dad was the Sherriff in town. Three years ago somebody broke in and attacked them. His dad was all torn up in the front room, he died later at the hospital. Stiles disappeared.”  
“Disappeared? Really?” Disbelief and sarcasm were heavy in Derek voice.  
“Dude, you can look it up! They found his blood upstairs and like spots on the stairs but they didn’t find him. He’s still listed as missing.”  
“Wow.”  
“Yeah, you uh, see anything strange in there?”  
“Define strange?” Derek raised a dark eyebrow at the younger man.  
“Well folks keep saying it’s haunted…”  
“I get enough knocks and strange stuff that it isn’t selling well, could you maybe not spread any more ghost stories around?”  
“Hey, I only said anything to you because you said you bought it. Well that and you bought the same kind of pizza he always ordered.”  
“You have been delivering pizza for three years?”  
“Hey, senior year of high school and then for college. When I get out of school then I get the better job, I have a plan.”  
“Sorry, just making sure you aren’t feeding me an urban legend.”  
“Nah man, just good pizza.”  
“Well thanks.” Derek included a nice tip when he paid the pizza guy and kept sitting out on the porch eating. What was he going to do with this place? Granted he got a great deal on it, but he couldn’t just keep it forever.  
When he got back that night he had to park at the end of the block and walk in, cops had the road blocked off.  
“What’s going on?” He asked the vaguely familiar guy who lived down the hall from him.  
“Boiler blew up, they are saying. They aren’t letting anyone in until they can get the water and electric turned off.”  
“Have you heard how bad it is?”  
“Not yet.”  
“Great.”  
It turned out to have been pretty bad for those lucky people who lived close to the boiler, which Derek was. His apartment was badly flooded. And with the flood water covering his bed and carpet in the soggy remains of the wall that has been thrown through his living room there was no way Derek could sleep there that night. He had just finished picking his way over to the dresser so he could retrieve some clothes that might have stayed dry when he heard someone clear their throat from behind him. He jumped and dropped the socks he was holding right into the water he was standing in. The man behind him winced.  
“I am so sorry Mr. Hale. On behalf of the building I would like to assure you that we will be in constant contact with our insurance until they pay for the damages to the apartments. Your apartment took the brunt of the damage I am afraid.”  
“Yeah, it’s looking a bit rough in here.” The other man looked around and nodded.  
“I hate to add insult to injury here, but we have already been informed that we cannot allow you to live in the apartment while cleaning efforts go on. The danger of mold and mildew is too high. I have spoken to the owner of the building, woke them up after I spoke to the firemen. They have offered to either pay for a water damage specialist to come in or to pay to replace furnishings and personal property that was water damaged.”  
“Really?” Derek couldn’t help the skeptical look he was wearing.  
“Because of the wall damage we will have to go down to studs to insure all water damage is repaired. We don’t have any empty apartments to offer you. I suggested to the owner that giving you back your deposit and buying you some new furniture, while letting you out of the remainder of your lease was much more cost effective than being sued because of how long the repairs would take and you would be stuck in a probably uncomfortable hotel.”  
“Thoughtful of you.”  
“I went through something similar and swore I would never let a tenant I worked with deal with that. Here’s some money for a hotel room tonight. In the morning you can come pick up the check for your deposit and then I will call you as soon as we get the insurance payout.”  
“You are being very helpful, but I actually have a place to stay, I don’t need a hotel room.”  
“Then take this and go to Walmart and buy yourself an air-mattress and some bedding and dry clothes. Use anything you have left towards the laundromat for your clothes.” Derek just shook his head.  
“Thanks man.”  
As Derek shoved his clothes into damp garbage bags and squished them into the back of his car he was for once happy that he had never felt the need to really personalize the apartment. Just two bags of wet clothes and bedding, a small box of bathroom supplies, his fire safe and a few DVD’s and books that had somehow missed the spray. Everything else in the small studio apartment was soaked but ultimately unimportant. He snorted to himself, well that’s one way to move quickly.  
After a quick stop at Walmart he pulled back into to house on main streets drive way. He started with the bags of wet clothes he dumped them into the bathtub while he dumped the first load into the washer in the cabinet and added soap. He carried the Walmart bags in last and went upstairs to the master bedroom and started to inflate the air mattress. When it was filled he opened the dark gray bed in a bag he had purchased. He put on the fitted sheet first wincing at the feel of too much starch spreading onto his fingers as he worked. It wasn't really pleasant but he was just too tired to try to get them washed and dried before he tried to go to sleep. He shook the stiff new blanket out over the air mattress, and bed made returned to the bathroom to survey his laundry situation. The sad, soggy mess in the tub looked just as bad at the second viewing. He was glad he had bagged the comforter from his bed separately as that meant it was the only thing covered in wet plaster mush. He had dropped that bag by the back door, now he grabbed it and pulled it out onto the back porch. He carried it down the steps into the lawn, ripped the bag open and shook as much of the plaster mud off of the blanket and onto the grass, then he threw the blanket over the porch railing drip dry overnight. He could decide if he would wash it here or at a laundromat in the morning. Task finished he went back into he house and turned off lights as he went back upstairs to his air mattress. He groaned when he saw it was absolutely flat.  
“Damnit, was it you Stiles? Or did I just buy a freaking defective air mattress?”  
Random doors in the house started to bang and the washing machine started to make a worrying sound.  
“Don't you dare hurt that machine!” Derek yelled. “I have had a shit day today, my apartment just blew up like Old Faithful everything I own but what I was wearing is soaking wet. And my pissy new roommate just ruined the only bed I currently have. Push your luck some more and I will call in the Catholics.”  
Sullen silence followed this tirade, until slowly the air mattress started to re-inflate. The blanket smoothed out as well.  
“Thank you. Since I was informed that I no longer live in that apartment I will be living here for the time being, I can at least promise no more Taylor Swift unless driven to it. Truce?” Everything stayed quiet and Derek took it as acceptance. Then the washing machine signaled the end of the cycle and he went in to move them to the dryer and start another load. Once both machines were running he went in and fell asleep.  
When he woke up the next morning he tried to stretch and ended up rolling off of the narrow air mattress and landing on the hardwood floor with a thump. Even as he was swearing he heard a light masculine chuckle. When he sat up and darted his eyes around the room he was still all alone. He shrugged and walked into his bathroom where his jaw dropped and he just stared. All the laundry was neatly folded and stacked in his baskets. The tub no longer contained soggy fabric. Black marks on the mirror caught his attention so he turned to read what was written there.  
“Catholics wouldn't help either of us, Wiccans might if you could find one who really believed at least they aren't as stubborn as Druids.”  
Derek showered and dressed before heading out for a fast food breakfast and a visit to his old apartment building. He walked into the office and the manager looked up at him with a tired flinch that could have been a smile.  
“Mr. Hale, I hope you are doing better than last night?”  
“At least that.”  
“Ah good, I had the inspector walk through your apartment first thing this morning and get us a price list for everything you left. Luckily for you he has decided to replace everything that was there but your dishes and cookware. I went ahead and boxed those up for you. I have a list of everything and the price offered for replacement. I would like to ask you to walk through the apartment to make sure nothing else personal was left behind and then if we need to remove anything from this list we can before I write out the check.”  
“Very well.” Derek didn't find anything after looking back through. He hadn't acquired much since the house fire those years ago. He shook the manager’s hand after all the paper work was signed and headed to the bank to deposit the check. His next order of business was to hit a furniture store. The twinge in his back and the bruising on his hip told him the air mattress would not be a good long term solution.  
When he walked into the local home furnishings store he steeled himself and walked up to the first salesperson he saw, sadly for him it was a perky blonde lady. God save him from perky people.  
“Good morning Sir, how may I help you today?”  
“I am looking for a bedroom set,” He held up a hand as she tried to cut him off, “I need at least a queen sized bed, but it has to be something that is currently in stock and that hopefully can be delivered today.”  
“Oh, I don't know if we have anything like that.” She said with worry. Before she was able to continue an older man in a managers shirt came up to them.  
“Penny, this man didn't look very happy to be speaking with you just now.”  
“I am sorry sir.” Derek cut her off.  
“Don't blame her, my apartment flooded last night and I slept in an empty house I was trying to flip. I was just telling her I was hoping for a bedroom set at least queen size, in stock and that could be delivered tonight. I woke up landing on hardwood this morning and I don't want to make a habit of it.” Penny looked horrified.  
“Oh you poor man, but all your other furniture?”  
“The apartment insurance guy, wrote me a check for everything but my clothes, dishes and personal items. All my furniture was soaked. It was cheaper for them to pay me now than pay to have a service clean it and maybe still have to pay for it.”  
“I see,” the manager said, “we are working from an empty house hmm? Well let’s step back here and see if anything will suit you. These items have been in the showroom longest and the owners have tagged them as final sales so I can make a deal to sell you the set as is today.” Derek nodded.  
“As long as the mattress feels good, and the dresser will keep my clothes off of the floor.”  
A little while later Derek and James, the manager, had finished touring the store. They were actually sitting on a sofa that had been returned because the back was ripped at delivery while Derek filled out his delivery forms. When James saw the address he quirked an eyebrow.  
“You bought the Sheriffs old place?”  
“So I have been told.”  
“Lots of stories have gone around about what happened.”  
“Yep, I heard a few from the pizza guy the other night.” James startled out a bark of laughter.  
“I'm sorry, it’s just that the two were well liked around here.”  
“I never knew them myself.”  
“Sheriff Stilinski was one of the good guys. He did a fantastic job keeping our crazy town safe even when the crimes just made no sense. Poor Stiles though,” He shook his head sadly, “kid was just a happy go lucky seventeen year old. I mean he could be a smart-ass, but who wasn't at that age?” Derek laughed.  
“I was probably more on the sullen side, but I eventually out grew it. Mostly.” James chuckled along with him.  
“It never really made sense for them to drag Stiles along with them, but that's Beacon Hills for you criminals make no sense here.”  
“Not to cause offense, but why does no one think that there was just a fight that got out of hand and he took off?” James' eyes grew wide and he shook his head.  
“Well that proves you didn't know them. Those two always had each other’s back, even when Stiles got roped into the prank of stealing the cops van. He spent every weekend for three months working at the station for his dad to pay the fine. No, he didn't get dropped off at the local hospital and the coroner estimated he wouldn't have survived to the next closest hospital seeing as how most of his blood was pooled on his bedroom floor and the stairs where it looked like he had been trying to get to his dad to help him.” Derek paled.  
“The pizza guy said a little blood.”  
“Most folks don't know just how much was sprayed around. Kids that knew him are determined to believe that he will be found somewhere, either with amnesia or held hostage.”  
“Oh.”  
“Yeah, well on that chipper note I am going to get back to work. I can call our local driver and see if we can get him in for a special delivery this afternoon, but there is going to be a twenty five dollar speed fee.”  
“It is worth it! That air-mattress is awful. Will the delivery guy or guys be able to help carry it in?”  
“It's included in the delivery charge.”  
“Fantastic! Thank you very much. When I decide what else I am doing I will be sure to come back to your store, I might just have to come rescue this couch.” The two laughed together as Derek headed to the front of the store.  
Since he had a few hours before he needed to be home to accept his new bed Derek decided to walk around the shopping district and see if there was anything else he might want for his stay at the house. As he walked he was also trying to decide if he should be looking for another apartment or if he should just stay out the house and buy another project to work on. Instead of dozens of noisy neighbors he would just have one slightly obnoxious seventeen year old banging around. At least the kid occasionally did laundry. That thought stopped him in the middle of the side walk. Was he really thinking of the resident ghost as a somewhat helpful room-mate? Did ghosts really do that? Was he really pondering ghosts while standing in the middle of the town sidewalk, cripes. He angrily brushed his hand down the sides of his jeans, huffed and started walking again.  
Tinkling bells caught his attention for being so out of place. It was early spring not really a time given to decorating with bells. He looked to his right and studied the store front he was in front of. There were sparkling crystals hanging in the plate glass window casting rainbows and chimes hanging along the awning over the front door. Huh, since when did little old Beacon Hills have a New Age shop? He remembered the words on his bathroom mirror, Wiccan's huh? Well what could it really hurt? He pulled open the door and stepped in.  
And immediately sneezed three times, eyes watering from the onslaught of burning sage, lavender and a myriad of candles. He shook his head and rubbed at his eyes, trying to see what the inside of the store was like. As he got his nasal passages under control he was approached by a young lady with rainbow tinted hair and all black clothes.  
“Good afternoon, are you alright?”  
“Yes, just wasn't expecting quite so much incense.”  
“Oh yeah, let me go flip on the exhaust fan. We had some folks trying stuff out sorry.”  
“How do you deal with it?”  
“Eventually you get used to it.” She returned with a tissue.  
“Did you need some help?”  
“In a way. I bought a house that is apparently haunted.” He watched as her face scrunched up with skepticism. “It's not like he's a bad guy, but I just feel bad that he is just stuck in the house.”  
“Sir, ghosts are residual energy most of the time. Like a tape recording.”  
“Tape recordings don't leave messages on your mirror when they are mad.”  
“Neither do ghosts sir.”  
“Ah, well then he said the Catholics couldn't help but he thought the Wiccans might be more approachable than the Druids. I guess I will just look up some of them.” As Derek turned to walk back out of the shop he heard a strange rustling as someone walked through the beaded curtain from the back section.  
“One moment please? “Derek turned back and met the woman’s eyes. She was a quite pretty slender dark woman with long dark hair. She was almost his height.  
“Yes?”  
“My name is Marin, where did you hear that phrase?”  
“Stiles wrote it for me.”  
Both women looked at him with wide shocked eyes. The younger girl who had argued with Derek put her hand over her mouth as her other hand fisted up in anger.  
“How dare you!” She didn't get any further before Marin grabbed her arm.  
“Go home Heather. This is another one of those things you are not a part of. Do not speak of it.”  
“Yes Ma'am.”  
Marin stood with her arms crossed while Heather ran into the back to grab her purse and stomped out of the front door still glaring at Derek. Marin followed her to the door and flipped the sign onto its closed side.  
“Please come into the back Mr. Hale it would seem that we have some things to discuss.” Derek stopped in shock.  
“How did you?” Marin barely curved up one side of her mouth.  
“I knew you by you resemblance to your mother, Talia.”  
“You knew my mother?”  
“Yes, my brother was her emissary. We have missed having your family in Beacon Hills to keep the peace.”  
“I couldn't”  
“We understood Derek, you were a child and it was a horrible tragedy. But this land is meant to be held by your family. Sheriff Stilinski was killed by a feral Omega who would not have been a problem if our local Alpha had been in residence.” Derek swallowed hard and dropped his head. He startled as he felt a small hand cup his chin and raise his face.  
“Do not misunderstand, you are not to blame for the tragedy. However, you are back now and perhaps there is a chance to right at least one wrong. Tell me what has been happening at this house of yours.”  
As Derek told the stories of slammed doors, and raised heat, and folded laundry he watched as Marin smiled and nodded. Finally laughing at the helpful behavior.  
“Yes that sounds like something Stiles would do. I feel terrible, I checked the house for signs of him right after the attack and found nothing. But, I never went back and checked after the stories started, I just accepted that he was gone.”  
“What else could have happened?”  
“Stiles was a Spark. He had just begun to study magic with my brother. There was some talk of him applying to be your emissary when you returned. It is possible he tried a spell he wasn't ready for and either put himself into a position to be hurt, thus tying himself to the house or he may have even tried a shield spell and become stuck.”  
“Stuck?”  
“Yes, there is a way to make a small pocket space to hide in if he messed up he might not be able to get back out.”  
“Would you be able to help him?”  
“It's possible, I could grab my kit and least check the house over for you, make sure it’s really him.”  
“Yes please, thank you. I will meet you there.”  
Derek pulled up just as a furniture truck did. He had spent much longer chatting with Marin than he had meant to. He waved to the truck driver and made his way up to unlock the door.  
“Thanks For coming in special guys.”  
“No problem, gets me out of another afternoon of reruns. Which room is the bedroom set going in?”  
“Upstairs and to the right, the one with the air-mattress in it right now, or maybe blanket covered pancake is the proper term.” The mover laughed as he refastened his back brace.  
“I hear ya man, that's why they invented motels. Ok Jack, grab the headboard and follow me.”  
Derek went to grab a piece of the bed frame and the younger man stopped him.  
“No Sir, Our insurance doesn't cover you if anything happens. We have this, best thing you could do is just grab the door.”  
“If you insist.”  
“Yep, I like this job.”  
“Alright thanks, this way then.  
Derek held the door open for the two men, then propped it open and took a quick trip towards the kitchen to grab a few cold pops out of the fridge for the guys when they were done. He couldn't help but notice that it was quiet in the house, no sign of the cranky roommate. The men made several trips carrying the rails and mattress and box springs up and then the night stands and chest of drawers. When they finished he shook their hands and passed them a cold pop and a tip.  
“Thanks guys.” They nodded their thanks and drove off as Derek sat on the front porch again. He sat there leaned back against the porch railing and enjoying the breeze. This really was a nice place. He sat there watching the barest beginnings of the sunset when a car he didn’t know turned into the driveway. He stood up for a better view and realized it was Marin as she stepped out of the driver’s seat.  
“Sorry it took so long Derek, but I had to go home and get a few things.” He waved her worries off.  
“No problem, the furniture guys just left.” Marin had a worried look on her face at that comment. She was very quiet as they walked inside of the house. She didn’t speak again until the door was closed behind them.  
“I cannot promise anything I do will help.” Derek shrugged.  
“If you can help the poor kid great. Getting him unstuck, one way or another would be for the best. He isn’t too bad of a room-mate if he isn’t yelling or perving.” At that there was a loud huffing noise and a desultory door slam upstairs. Derek just shrugged and pointed upstairs with a shrug. Marin looked shocked.  
“Well, that certainly fits with who I remember him being. Now I know some people balk at the use of Ouija boards in their homes, but I need a way to communicate with the spirit. Derek scoffed.  
“Why don’t you just use the wipe off marked on the mirror upstairs, works fine for us.”  
“You have been speaking with a spirit through a mirror?”  
“No, he leaves me notes on the mirror with the marker, it was easiest.”  
“As you stand there?”  
“Well no, I usually find them later.”  
“So I will ask my questions down here then. Who is in this house? What has happened to you? Will you accept well-meaning help?” At this Derek just shook his head, and laughed out loud when he heard another loud scoff from the upstairs.  
Derek led the way up the stairs. He slid down the wall opposite of the bathroom door laughing. He just sat there trying to catch his breath as Marin looked at him in worry before she walked in to read the message written on the mirror.  
“Long time no see Marin, sure would have been nice if Deaton had been a little less cryptic in labeling his freaking herbs. Oh and either of you bothering to walk through a house to help the pack find me would have also been nice. You break Brannoslavs pg. 306 by using fox wort instead of foxfire. Labeling System!!!”  
“Oh shit.” Derek’s head jerked up at the unexpected reaction from the self-possessed woman. Her jaw had dropped and she was just staring at the mirror. After a moment she pulled out her phone and took a picture of the mirror only after making sure it was focused did she speak.  
“Stiles, I am so sorry. I had accepted that Deaton had it under control. I didn’t realize that he never checked your house. I will begin researching this right away.” She turned and looked down at Derek sorrow in her eyes. “I really didn’t know.”  
“We believe you, just please see what you can do for the kid, ok?” They heard a snort from behind her and a squeak from the mirror. They both startled when they turned to look.  
“Not a kid.”  
“I stand corrected, the young adult.” The bedroom door down the hall shut. “Touchy, touchy.”  
Derek showed Marin out. After she had pulled away he ordered Chinese for dinner. As Derek sat on the porch eating his eggrolls and lo-Mein he contemplated whether it would be worth it to get a kitchen table just so he could eat at it alone, or if he should just buy a stool to sit at the counter with. After he finished his takeout he took a shower and laid down in his brand new bed. He was sure he would get a much better night’s sleep tonight. Just as he started to dose off he felt a slight tug on his blanket, he just turned over grabbing it mumbling not falling out of this bed. He didn’t hear the giggle.  
The next morning Derek’s cell phone ringing woke him up. He flailed for just a second before he felt the bedside table and managed to pry one eye open and locate his phone. He absently swiped the screen and answered.  
“ ‘Lo?”  
“Sorry to wake you Derek, but I was hoping that Deaton and I could come back out and start work on the project.”  
“Sure, give me half an hour to get dressed.”  
“Of course, we will bring coffee and donuts with.  
“Thank.”  
When Deaton walked through the front door the house went mad. Doors up and down the hall began to slam. The temperature dropped easily twenty degrees and then the voice started shouting.  
“Shirker! How could you only help us partway! Learn to Follow through Asshole!” These and many similar things were bellowed. The fellow Derek barely remembered stumbled back in horror as an apparent empty house chewed him a new one.  
“Stiles, I am so sorry, there was never an indication…”  
“Liar! You never even came to check! You could have tried to use magic to follow me if I had been kidnapped but you never even tried!”  
“I, I.”  
“Get out of my house! You never keep your word! Get out of this house now!! It might not just be my house any longer but it sure is my prison and I want you out!” When the young man’s voice had finished it was as if a terrible wind blew through the house and forced Deaton backwards out of the door which then slammed in his face. Marin just looked around the house in interest.  
“Shall I find others to research with or would you prefer I leave as well?”  
“Look for others please, I have been trapped too long, it’s getting boring.”  
“WE cannot allow that to happen.” With that Marin pulled three large leather bound books from her bag and carefully set them in a line on the counter. “As you can tell Stiles, these are very old books of magic. I will leave these here for you to look through if you promise not to damage them.”  
“I wouldn’t hurt books.”  
“Good, I am also going to leave my number with Derek. He can send me pictures of any notes you leave me on the mirror.”  
“Too bad my project board got sold. It would give more work space.”  
“I can grab one while I am out today.” Derek interjected.  
Derek drug the school sized white board in and leaned it against the wall while he turned to set the bag of supplies on the counter. Then he pulled off the plastic wrap and attached the legs making it a self-supporting two sided white board. He suction cupped a pen holder to each side and dropped a freshly opened pack of colored markers and an eraser on each side. Then gathered up the trash and shoved it into the bag the markers had been it. At the click behind him he turned.  
“Thanks Dude! You need a trash can and a table. Dishes too, all this takeout can’t be good for you.” Derek rolled his eyes at talking to thin air, but did it anyway.  
“Don’t call me Dude, my names Derek, its only one extra letter. Werewolves don’t really have to worry about their cholesterol.” There was a chuff of laughter. The book on the far right opened itself and began to periodically turn its own pages.  
“And on that note, I will be back later.”  
Derek walked back into the house as dusk was falling. As he closed the front door behind him it was the first time he actually felt like he was coming home since he had been a child. He carried a bag of Taco bell into the kitchen halfway expecting to be chastised for eating takeout again. When he saw what had been the white board his jaw dropped and only good reflexes saved his dinner from the floor. Every inch of the board was covered in cramped writing, most of it was not in English.  
“Umm hello?”  
“Take out again? Dude even werewolves need veggies.” Derek startled at that.  
“How?”  
“Oh please, I was studying magic it all kind of ties together.”  
“Maybe, but how would you know about me?”  
“When you get mad your eyes get flashy.” Derek glared.  
“I haven’t done that since I was a kid!”  
“Aww, so I bring the childlike wonder out in you?”  
“More like childlike frustration in dealing with you.”  
“You say the sweetest things.”  
“Any luck?”  
“I have a few leads. They are tentative, but it’s more than I had.” Derek put his bag on the counter and pulled out his taco salad and a fork. Before he started eating he stood looking at the board for a minute.  
“Is it something you need ingredients, components, whatever you call them for?”  
“Depends on who I believe. Some do, some just need a certain date or time.” Derek nodded.  
“Ok, so put them in order. I will get you a calendar, you mark those dates and times in. Get me a shopping list and I will pick stuff up, we can work through them until we find one that works.”  
“Really?”  
“No, I am lying to the guy who folded my socks.” There was a snort and chuckle at that.  
“I felt bad for being a jerk.”  
“Well, we got through it.”  
Derek ate his salad and tacos while watching the white board write on itself. It wasn’t as disconcerting as it had been before. That night he showered and climbed into bed again. The feeling of contentment was something new.  
Morning sunlight was streaming in the window as Derek stretched and blinked his eyes open the next morning. He had just about gotten his right eye open when he heard a soft chuckle. He rolled his head to that side and saw the pale outline of a man lying on the bed beside him. He jerked upright in shock. The apparition flailed and appeared to fall off the other side of the bed. Derek sprang across the bed to look but no one was there. He rubbed his eyes and shook his head as his brain finally came back online.  
“Stiles? What were you doing?”  
“Holy Hell Dude! You could see me?”  
“Well you were a bit transparent, but yeah.”  
“I gotta go find out what changed.” And with that he disappeared. Derek got up shaking his head.  
“Because that really explains why you were watching me sleep.”  
By the time Derek made it downstairs his new coffee pot was already bubbling merrily, and the white board had been erased and was being refilled as he watched.  
“So, are you going to explain?” The sound of a throat being cleared competed with the coffee perking to break the quiet of the house.  
“Explain, umm yeah. See I didn’t know you would see me…Oh man that sounds even worse. I got to thinking if I could handle the markers, I mean actually feel them in my hand maybe I could lay on the bed. It’s been a couple years since I actually slept, it seemed like a good idea.”  
“So we can just blame exhaustion and move right along.”  
“Could we?”  
“Yep, so anything new?”  
“Not really new, but I am leaning towards a few of the ideas as better than the others.”  
“Alright, anything I should bring back tonight?”  
“Get yourself some real food?” Derek rolled his eyes at the taunt.  
“Pizza is real food.”  
“Aww man, don’t tease me with what I can’t eat.”  
“Get your homework done and I will buy you your own.”  
“Promises, promises.” The squeak of the chisel tipped marker was what followed Derek out of the house that day.  
Derek ran the errands that he needed to do. He visited a few houses he was considering bidding on and then stopped by a housewares store. He bought a small folding table and chair set and found himself pacing in the cookware aisle completely at a loss. He finally picked up an Anchor Hocking set of dishes because they had everything he thought he would need and a set of flatware. On his way to checkout he threw another pillow on his cart without really noticing that he had done it. He hit the grocery on the way home and bought a pizza pan, two frozen pizzas a dish scrubby and drainer set, dish soap and as an afterthought he threw in a case of pop and some breakfast burritos.  
“Hey Honey, I'm home.” He yelled as he came in the front door with a smirk on his face. He heard a clatter from the kitchen and then a thud that sounded remarkably like someone had slammed into the corner of the kitchen counter.  
“Wh...What???” A confused voice came through the house. Derek started to chuckle as he walked towards the kitchen.  
“I couldn’t help it, I just wish I could have seen the look on your face.” Derek set the bags on the counter and went back out for the table from the trunk.  
“Dude you said you would get real food.”  
“No, I said pizza was real food. Also if you noticed I don’t have a lot of kitchen stuff.” He gestured at the empty cabinets.  
“I thought maybe it was in storage.”  
“Nope, I can’t cook, so I never bought any.” The bags on the counter rustled as if someone was looking thought them.  
“Feeling hungry? You bought two pies.”  
“No, but I said I would buy you one for when you figured it out. This way it’s waiting for you.”  
“AWW… you bought me pizza? That’s so sweet. What’s with the pillow in the other bag?”  
“If you are gonna steal half my bed I can live with it, but I am not sharing my pillow with you.”  
“Wow Dude, thanks.”  
“Derek, its Derek.” He huffed out as he stared washing the dishes only to dirty them to wash them again. He remembered why he didn’t like cooking again. Derek survived the tittering laughter that happened while he tried to saw his slightly burnt pizza apart with a butter knife because he didn’t know that flat ware didn’t include knives and had neglected to buy a pizza cutter. He stoically gnawed bites off of what became a giant pizza taco, while drinking the room temperature can of pop. The levels of snark were strong in the kitchen throughout the meal and more than once he felt himself pause when he realized he was going to throw pepperoni at the laughing voice or flip his pop top at it and there was no one there to hit. Derek tried his best to ignore the hollow ache that caused. It had been perhaps too long since he had friends.  
After all of the dishes had been washed and propped in the drainer. After he had listened to the voice laughing at his struggles to keep the plates from tipping over and after it was pointed out that he had still forgotten a garbage can Derek finally made his way up for a hot shower and to go to bed. He put the new pillow on the other side of the bed and slipped under the covers.  
“Night Stiles, keep your cold feet to yourself.” He was asleep before he heard and answer.  
The shrill beep of his morning alarm ringing from his phone woke Derek the next morning. He grumbled as he swatted at the phone, missing the chance to grip it and hearing it clatter to the ground. He was loathe to reach for it, but the alarm had only paused and began to shrill louder from the floor. He was startled when he heard a sleep roughened voice behind him grumble. “Make it stop.” While a warm face seemed to burrow into his back. Derek felt his body go stiff as a board in shock and his eyes fly wide open.  
“Stiles, is that you.”  
“Yes, make that horrible thing be quiet!” He whined again.  
“Stiles, why do you feel warm?” Derek flopped over and found himself face to face with a very corporeal looking and shocked Stiles.  
“Huh?” Derek slowly reached out and cupped his hand against the younger man’s face. He found his cheek solid and warm in his hand.  
“Are you back?”  
“I, um, well I sure feel like it. Thank you.”  
“For what? I didn’t do anything?”  
“I couldn’t get back because the anchor point for the spell was my home. By the time I had enough power built back up to try to come back, it wasn’t my home anymore. I was stuck. You accepting me, talking to me, buying me food and trying to make me comfortable made this place feel like home again. You gave me a way out.”  
Derek walked over and pulled him into a tight hug. When he let go Derek just looked at him and said.  
“I’ll turn the oven on, you grab the pizza. Celebration time.” Stiles threw back his head and laughed.  
The end

**Author's Note:**

> I am gobsmacked at how many people have clicked on this story! Thank you so much.
> 
> Every time I get a kudo I grin for hours!
> 
> So I am going to let folks in on a secret, I just got my first novel published! It is also free right now on kindle unlimited. You can read it and I het paid for every page you flip for free.
> 
> Coy Wolf (The Renard Pack Book 1) https://www.amazon.com/dp/B082K5XJJG/ref=cm_sw_r_cp_apa_i_L54hEbW0KG938
> 
> If you like my writing style please click follow by my Author page because the next book I put out will be funny like This Old House and The Why Me Dating Pool Of Life.  
> Thanks guys for giving me confidence to write again.


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